


everybody wants to rule the world

by ristaya



Category: Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2510687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ristaya/pseuds/ristaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Kyouhei has been busy fighting the mafia, Touya travelled. This is a story about what happens when he comes back home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody wants to rule the world

It's been two years since he left Unova. Touya has seen most of the continent-- Johto, Kanto, Hoenn, all of it. He's walked the gleaming, golden streets of Goldenrod City, walked the paths of famous trainers recognized everywhere. He can't help but feel like one of them, a little -- he did save the world that one time, and there's a strange dissonance to knowing that and walking among people who don't know his name. He's the 'mysterious trainer'. He's the unknown variable. For all he knows, the stories might presume him dead.

Being a recogniozed hero must have its perks and Touya is certain he could make himself so, but anonimity works far better in the long run, and the long run is what he's been opting for. He's travelling on the back of a legendary pokemon hardly anyone believes in and he doesn't have a passport, which along with his impatience means that he's crossed borders illegally a lot of times. (It's not a big issue, anyways).

He could maybe deal with being famous if he didn't have a goal. Certain people might call it a dream, even, but Touya doesn't -- dreams hardly ever come true, most of them halfway developed imaginings about better lives and better worlds. Touya doesn't want better. What he wants is not something dreamt about; it's something to aim oneself towards, a plausible, probable reality that can be achieved with enough effort put into it. (That's what he has to tell himself, at least. The opposite is quite discouraging, and Touya is nothing if not stubborn as shit.)

Anyway, there isn't anything more for him to do than travel the world. Touya likes travelling; it can be quite uplifting on his darker days, the days where all he wants to do is sit in on a roof he doesn't own and look at the sky, searching for stars that are never there.

Today, though-- today that will not happen, because Touya won't let his worse memories rear their heads, because he's back in Unova for the first time in over two years. As Reshiram lands swiftly, like her weight isn't causing her any trouble being gracious -- legendaries do seem to have that in common, and Touya has seen quite a few so far during his journey -- Touya is hit with the details of things, overwhelmed by being so close to the crowd parting around him and his dragon with slack-jawed faces. From Reshiram's back, the world is vast and endless, but although Touya's eyes can reach seemingly everything at once, all that surrounds him when he's in the air is the roaring wind, sometimes chilling to the bone; whatever's beneath him is silent and lifeless, and couldn't be more distant. Every time they descend, though, Touya is hit with the brimming energy of everything, bursting, buzzing, much like the whispers of people around him.

Touya slips off of Reshiram's back, landing hard on the ground, with his legs weak and boneless from the long flight. The pavement is hard beneath his feet, but he doesn't focus on that. He's slept in forests plenty; the discomfort doesn't phase him anymore.

He can hear the small crowd he and Reshiram have involuntarily managed to gather sniping short comments at one another. Touya wonders if they know he can hear them; if they even care. There is no way they could recognize him, but Reshiram stands out enough for the both of them.

"It's him, isn't it? The guy who beat Team Plasma?"

"Look at that thing, it's humongous!"

"It could probably run this town into the ground--!"

Reshiram keens softly behind Touya. He adjusts the strap of his bag that's been digging into his shoulder painfully and steels himself for the confrontations he knows are coming. In other regions no one recognized Reshiram; over there, she was just an anomaly, yet another dragon pokemon, albeit an unknown species of one. Here, though, here everyone knows the legends of her and Zekrom, the two of them one blessing short of a miracle to have been built a shrine in the old days. Touya can't exactly hide Reshiram away -- he doesn't want to, most of all. Her pokeball has been sitting empty in Touya's bag for months. Who would Touya be if he had such a magnificent, beautiful creature closed in a cage, even if it's a comfortable one?

Someone's lectures might have rubbed off on him, but Touya loves Reshiram too much to be pissed at letting himself be influenced that way. N did have a few good ideas, at those rare times he stopped acting like a self-rightetous, pretentious prick.

Touya turns his back to the crowd, internally willing them to disappear-- not surprised at them not proceeding to do so, but it's still disappointing. He pets Reshiram's head.

"Good girl," he tells her, the fingers of his hand gliding effortlessly through the short, silk-like strands of fur on her nose. Touching her is the most calming thing he's ever experienced, almost unreal - legendary pokemon are supposed to be fierce, driven, omnipotent almost. They're supposed to be hurricanes wrapped up in flesh containers. One thing the myths have never told was that those same creatures had the capability to produce the loudest purring sounds in the entire existence of the universe. 

Reshiram closes her eyes and leans into his hand, nudging Touya's palm with her wet nose. 

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to withdraw your... pokemon," a deep voice says. Touya glances over his shoulder to see a police uniform, a man with a generous mustache wearing it proudly like a badge. Touya hasn't noticed him approaching; there's a Growlithe at his feet, its teeth bared in warning.

Touya doesn't turn to face the policeman directly, leaving one hand on Reshiram to soothe her. He raises the other one in surrender, even though he's not exactly weaponless with a humongous monster beside him, even if it's purring its guts out. "I apologize," Touya starts cautiously, willing himself not to let his nerves get ahead of him and make him say something stupid. The situation is delicate; people are still gawking. Some of them seem to have miraculously obtained ice cream. "But that's not an option."

"You will do what I tell you to do," the man says lowly. "I represent the law here and I will not have you cause distress to these people. This is my city and I protect it. Who are you to tell me you're not a threat? Team Plasma is still lurking around. You could be one of them. They're known to have gone after strong pokemon."

Touya lets his latent celebrity glad of two years fly. He never has done that before, so he's not sure how to do it correctly. From what he's observed, it mostly accounts to being an ass and hoping his status is enough to deal with the repercussions. "Reshiram is not a strong pokemon," he says with conviction. "She's a legendary and a total fluffball."

"You're funny, kid," the cop says. Touya doesn't think he means it. "You're telling me that Reshiram, one of the two pokemon who created and formed this region is taking orders from a child? I may be old," the cop raises his eyebrows, "but I'm not stupid."

"I'm not a child," Touya says, because that's the important thing to focus on. "I'm nineteen." Then, seeing no other reprieve from the situation, he sighs and tells Reshiram, "fly." 

As her wings flap hard enough to make everyone shield their eyes against the wind and the dust it raises, Touya grins. "And she's not on anyone's orders. We're just very good friends."

He really should have expected to be cuffed a few minutes later, but the smile doesn't disappear from his face. This is a great return to the country. Sure to hit the newspapers. So much for anonimity. 

"It's good to know you're old enough to be legally convicted," the cop says in his ear as he leads him to the station. Touya doesn't resist; his body doesn't offer much muscle, exactly. He can feel Serperior shifting resentfully inside its ball as it's taken away from Touya's belt and pocketed in the cop's jacket. 

He is so, so screwed. White is going to be pissed. 

 

 

Five minutes later finds Touya sat uncuffed at an old wooden desk with stacks of documents towering on the sides of it. The cop slides a cup of coffee at Touya, then sinks into his desk chair and rubs at his eyebrows. 

"I figure you must be tired," the cop says, sounding simultaneously mirthful and exhausted, the default state for most officers Touya has met. "All that flying and all."

Touya stares at the cup in front of him, confusion welling up in him. He wraps his hands around the mug tentatively, letting the warmth sink in. "Thanks?" he tries, and pauses. "So you don't want to convict me after all."

"Nah," the cop says, leaning back. Touya takes a careful sip; the brew is still too hot for his tongue, but it's strong and good. It's been a while since he's had coffee. "I know a fool-headed moron working for Team Plasma when I see one and you sure don't look like one. You lack crazy in your eyes."

Touya feels inclined to correct the cop that he's not really on the wagon for being sane and entirely on the level, but for once he stops himself. He shrugs instead.

"'Sides," the cop continues, "you looked like you could use a break and I don't want a riot on my hands 'cause of a hero flying Reshiram into town and riling people up."

Touya can't keep his gaze straight; he looks at the floor. "I wasn't intending to. I forgot Unova is much less... liberal. Less used to weird shit happening than other regions are."

The cop whistles. "Been around the block too long to remember that folks here don't care about logic as long as stuff's shining at them? Nimbasa City is the city of entertainment. You'd be a prime source for that. You're that hero who fought Team Plasma two years ago, no?" he asks, obviously trying to keep his voice in the range of professional interest and failing.

Touya plasters on a grin. "Yeah. It's been a peach." 

The cop nods and grunts noncommitally. "I thought so. You look older than you are."

"Thanks?" Touya manages, not quite sure if it was a compliment. He sits in silence for a while and finishes his coffee without hurry. He's not worried about confronting people, but he's not exactly looking forward to it either. He'd much rather wait for the gawkers to disperse. If there's one thing about Nimbasa City, it's that news becomes old quickly, no matter how outrageous or thrilling it is. 

Touya still feels uneasy about people recognizing him. "Thanks for, uh, your help," he mutters, glancing at the cop from under his cap. For some reason the officer seems amused. "Can I have my pokemon back?" Touya adds, raising his eyebrows. It doesn't come out sounding like a request.

The cop reaches into his pocket and retrieves Serperior, sets his pokeball gently on the table. Touya snatches it up immediately, relief flooding through him. The memory of Team Plasma stealing pokemon will always be fresh, even if it's never happened to him personally. Touya knows his companions are strong, but he feels infinitely better knowing where they are. 

"You might want to consider getting more pokemon," the cop says. "Even if you beat the Champion and all, it seems unwise to travel with only... what, two pokemon, counting that dragon of yours?" He sounds concerned. "The remnants of Team Plasma are still out there. I still get reports of pokemon theft weekly... You're the one who thwarted their scheme to take over the world. You could be a target, or that dragon of yours."

"I have dealt with worse," Touya says. He pushes himself away from the table and stands up. "I defeated those fuckheads without Reshiram before."

"Someone has to look out for you kids. So damn foolheaded."The cop stands up and follows Touya to the door. "You know, my ma used to tell me stories of Zekrom and Reshiram. It's still... dreamlike to see them out and about, you know what I'm saying? Real life dreams flying around," the cop shakes his head. "Who'd have thunk."

Touya certainly hasn't. If there's a thing that had never been on his bucket list before he got into the Team Plasma shitshow, it's riding on the back of a dragon in lieu of using public transport. "Yeah."

"Hey, you ever in any trouble, ask for Markus, kay?" the cop tells him. "Markus Zaamic. I might not be all that high up in the chain of order, but I might be able to help you out some if you're ever in a ditch."

Touya's thrown for a loop. He blinks, then blinks again, but it sparks no understanding in his mind. "Why would you do that?"

The cop-- Markus, his name is Markus-- says, "Yanno, all of them fellas out there, they might see you as some sort of untouchable hero, but I gotta tell you, my son's your age. If he'd been through what people say you've been through," Markus shakes his head. "I just figured, all you young ones are always too proud to ask for help, even when you need it. And a kid like you looks like he could use help at times."

Touya can't swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. No one's ever-- no one's ever done this for him, nobody has given him such a gesture of kindness. It's not much, and it's not like Touya doesn't have friends guarding his back, but Markus hardly knows him. Touya knows that, logically, this should make him suspicious, because it sounds fishy, because hardly anyone is nice to a stranger like this without asking for anything in return, but all he can feel is gratitude. "Thanks," he mutters quietly, so as to hide the slight tremble to his voice. 

Markus grins. "And if I ever get to tell my grandkids that I helped out the Hero of Unova--"

Touya chuckles, the sounds slipping free out of his mouth as it hasn't in ages. It feels good to laugh like that. "Sure. See ya around, Markus."

Touya makes note to drop him a letter sometime. Maybe a postcard. When he exits the police station, he decides that not all cops are bad.

 

 

Touya calls White from the Pokemon Center. 

White's face appears on the screen after a minute. It turns pale as fuck, then livid, in the space of a few seconds. "You," she sneers. "Where the hell have you been! We thought you were dead!"

"I," Touya starts, then has to swallow around his dry mouth. He hasn't foreseen how good it would feel to hear his sister's voice after so long. "Calls from abroad cost a fortune. I couldn't afford it," he lies.

"Like hell you couldn't, mister champion of Unova, hero of truth, father of fucking dragons," White fumes. Her hair is longer, the tails hanging from her tied buns braided now. "I can't fucking believe you, you bastard, making us worry for months!"

"I.. needed some time to myself," Touya admits. It's true; he only hasn't thought that 'some time to himself' would turn into years of absence. "I'm sorry."

"Like hell," White says. "You be glad that Bianca's not here. She left just a few hours ago. She would have reamed your ass."

Touya huffs out a laugh. "I cannot imagine that." He pauses. "I missed you."

"You're just trying to make me forgive you, with the fucking puppy eyes," White tells him, but Touya can see the corners of her mouth lifting. She's happy. Touya knows he'd been right to have left the rest of his pokemon with her; she started a ranch in their hometown not long before Touya had left. Touya sits there and lets himself catalogue all the ways White has changed. She looks tired in the way people who do a lot of physical work look tired, but she's obviously pleased with her job. Touya knows no one could force her into doing something she didn't want to do. She's Touya's blood, after all.

There's immense, palpable relief visible on White's face, relief she's been trying to cover with being wrathful. Touya smiles. He told the truth; he has missed her. He has missed everyone.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" White asks him, pulling him out of his reverie. "Did you find your dream?"

Touya hasn't told her the purpose of his search, the heart of his journey, but she knows what's gone down two years ago. She's too smart not to have figured it out.

"Still working on it," Touya tells her, not bothering to make himself smile. White has known him for too long not to see through whatever facade he might put up. 

White hums thoughtfully. She's silent for a while. "I'm telling everyone you're back, you know that," she says, then inquires, tentative, as if Touya's a spooked animal. "You're back, right?"

Touya nods. "For the time being. I promise not to drop off radar again."

"Good," White huffs out. 

"Can you send some money over to my account?" Touya asks. "I need a new X-transceiver."

"Ugh," White moans. "It's like I leave you alone for five seconds-- Fine." She stops for a second, suspicion evident in her slanted eyes. "How come you don't have enough? Are you just messing with me?"

"Reshiram eats a ton," Touya explains, grinning. It's easy, riling White up, falling into the routine of their lives comfortable with the surety of well-oiled gears.

White makes an angry noise at him and stomps off, leaving the screen a blur of disconnected static. Touya smiles at it. He sleeps in the Pokemon Center that night, Serperior coiled around him like a spring, radiating warmth and, occasionally, soft hisses. 

It feels good to be home.

 

 

Touya calls Cheren and Bianca the next day when he wakes himself up enough to function. It's too early, light flowing through the windows in a lazy, foggy haze, like it hasn't quite waken up itself. Touya can hear dim, distorted voices downstairs. 

Bianca squeaks when she sees Touya's face on the screen. It's the first time Touya sees her look angry. Cheren's only reaction is calm, silent judgement, which Touya can't handle.

"Ey, Cherry, I'm surprised you can still even recognize my dumb face," Touya teases. "Without the glasses and all," which is not really terribly funny and only makes Cheren squint at Touya in confusion. Bianca is wearing glasses now, but after a second Touya decides they can't be the same ones that used to belong to Cheren. (He wishes they were, though. It would make for excellent material to annoy both his friends with).

 

 

Touya's earlier predictions turn out to have been right. Hardly anyone pays attention to him when he steps out into the streets. It's late, the sky already gone dark and the early autumn chill is enough to have heavily reduced the crowds, but even the people still wandering around don't give him anything more than wary, curious glances, as if they're too anxious to approach, which suits Touya just fine.

He stuffs his cold hands into the pockets of his jacket and walks, old places ringing memories back from his memory. Touya stalks past Elesa's gym, the building illuminated with lights that are so bright Touya's eyes start to sting. Elesa battles with the help of Electric-type pokemon, that much Touya knows, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't remember their fight, whether it was tough, whether it took incentive and strategy and planning to win, or not. Touya doesn't recall many of his battles, in fact, except for the ones he had with N, which stand out with extensive detail and clarity in his mind.

Back when Touya started travelling, he wasn't really set on the sightseeing aspect of his journey. It wasn't even that much of a trip; hell, if he's being honest, it was a driven, blindsighted search, because Touya had no clue where to look for N and, more importantly, why he was even looking. Logically, the arguments for why are plenty and in abundance. N was still needed to sort out the remainder of the mess with Team Plasma; there might have been secrets only he could impart and ones that could turn out to be crucial to finding and ruling the Seven Sages out of the equation.

But since Touya considers lying to oneself a childish and highly stupid choice, he had to admit he looked for N simply because he felt enthralled by him, drawn by the simultaneous carefree, inobtrusive way N carried himself through the world and the dedicated passion of his actions, even thought most of his ideas were too idealistic and naive to remain smart or even plausible. There were questions Touya wanted answers for, things he needed to know--

Or maybe it was just that N's tentative smile was a rare treasure to behold, and Touya wanted to bask in the centre of N's attention for as long as he could possibly make N stay, which has never been long enough.

It's apparent to Touya how stupid he'd been, thinking he'd be able to find the bastard and deck him. Instead of directing his attention to chasing the fucking wind, Touya made himself focus on easier things, pleasant things; the various places to visit, the wonderful people he could meet. Travelling became a goal all on itself, strangely fulfilling and calming once Touya grew used to constantly being in the air on Reshiram's back, but he would be lying if he said that the undercurrent of his journey was gone. It's never disappeared, remaining a thin, but vicious thread in his mind, ever present, the core he could never manage to shake, which only served to piss Touya off more. What's the point of longing if the only effect of that bullshit is being hurt?

Touya refused to brood, because brooding is for losers and people who don't have better things to do with their time. He's always had stuff to do, or stuff he was supposed to do, so instead of brooding, he busied himself with doing whatever he could get his hands on. When he dropped off to bed, he was usually too tired to stare at the ceiling. But now, as he walks the streets of Nimbasa City once again, feeling strangely hollow and awake like people often do when they stay up past bedtime, he can't help but go back to the stuff long passed. He stops in front of the gate to the amusement park, the ferris wheel towering in the distance. Touya feels a pang of nostalgia spark in his gut.

Stupid, he chastises himself. Going in there is a terrible idea. The fucking worst thing he could do right now. So what if N and him talked in this very same place what seems like eons ago; they talked in plenty other places, places Touya won't visit. 

But he's never been any good at willpower, so Touya presses his face into the pulled-up collar of his jacket and steps forward. It doesn't feel like an ending, or a start, or breaching a boundary he shouldn't even have touched. It's just a fucking step forward. 

 

 

Contrary to the rest of the city, which still has night-owls wandering around, the amusement park is entirely deserted. Touya is filled with the eerie impression of visiting a graveyard, which is strange, considering this is supposed to be the centre of entertainment. But it doesn't look asleep now. Mostly it just looks dead.

Or maybe that's just how Touya sees it, because how can you see something as alive and kicking if the most important parts are gone? 

He ponders that as he eyes the scratched, colorful paint on the carouselle horses. It's the same place from Touya's memory and yet, everything feels different. The park obviously hasn't changed, except for a few repairs here and there, so that must mean it's Touya that's different. That's hardly surprising. 

He considers going back to the pokemon centre; there's nothing here anyways, reason tells him. He's just going to go one more lane, because he remembers that the ferris wheel is just behind the corner and Touya rounds the bend and turns--

Touya freezes, his eyes going so wide they hurt, because N is standing right there, straight in front of the fucking ferris wheel. His clothes are the same, but his hair is visibly longer. He looks thoughtful and a little sad as he gives the sky the thousand-yard-gaze. 

"Son of a fucking gun," Touya seethes, fists clenching in the pockets of his jacket. "You bastard," he adds for more emphasis, because somehow it doesn't seem enough, no insult will ever be enough, and apparently Touya's loud enough for N to hear him and he's turning, startled.

"Oh," N breathes, unphased and ignoring Touya's reactions as he always used to. "Good evening, Touya," he adds. The distance between them seems too far; Touya can't help thinking that N will disappear again, flit off and flicker out of his vision like a flame going out, so he closes it, steps long and quick, and as soon as he's close enough, he punches N in the face. Touya's fist hurts. The satisfaction of it is immense.

N staggers, obviously not expecting that for his two-years long overdue reunion. He straightens, hand pressed against his right cheekbone. He's still taller than Touya and it's still annoying, but-- how does that saying go? The bigger they are, the harder they fall?

"It's not an evening," Touya says, rubbing at his knuckles absently without taking his eyes off of N, who's wearing a bewildered expression. "It's the fucking middle of the night. What the hell are you doing out here?" He pauses.

N is silent for a long moment. "I'm not certain," he says, because of course he fucking isn't, it's not like he ever knows what the point of whatever he's doing is. "I have completed my journey, I think," N muses. "Someone made me realise recently how much I owed you."

Touya raises his eyebrows. He's not sure where this is going and he doesn't like it. "Huh?" If he's going to drop more vague cryptic shit on me and then vanish, I swear to God-

"I wanted to thank you," N confesses tentatively. "I realised I never have before. You helped me see the truth of the world and the deceit of Team Plasma, the wrong of my own ways," N stops, visibly perplexed. "I have never had a friend before, you understand. The equation of such a bond is still unclear to me."

The rage that has been fuming inside Touya like a summer storm comes screeching to a halt. "Friends," Touya rasps, then realizes he has to swallow around his mouth that's gone dry. "Friends don't abandon each other, you fucking moron."

N's expression falls a little. He doesn't bother hiding it; Touya doubts he's ever cared enough to learn how to stop his emotions from showing on his face. "I see. That's," he stops, coughs. "I'm glad you're well." His eyes dart towards the exit, and Touya knows where this is going, has been witness to it enough to know the signs of N preparing to flee.

He rushes forward before he can think about it. "Don't you fucking dare," Touya snarls, arms wrapping aggressively around N's shoulders, fingers digging in to hold him in place. Touya's face is situated somewhere in the vicinity of N's collarbone, but he's too vehement about this to be embarassed. "Don't you fucking dare leave. Of course you're my friend. Christ."

N tenses in Touya's unrelenting grip, like no one's ever hugged him before-- which, actually, is quite probable, considering N had Ghetsis for a father. Jesus. No wonder he'd grown up borderline nuts.

Touya isn't sure how long they stand there for, but he can't let go. He doesn't really want to, truth be told. Eventually, N relaxes somewhat, arms still hanging awkwardly down his sides, like he's not quite sure what to do with them.

"How about your dream?" N asks, sounding oddly hopeful. Of course he does. He's always loved impossible things-- but maybe not all of them are so impossible, after all. "Have you found it?"

Touya huffs out a hysterical laugh into N's shirt. It's soft and warm. "Yeah, I have," he says, feeling emboldened, high, like he could take over the world, maybe. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

 

 

"Oooh!" White screams into the receiver of Touya's new phone. "I met the most interesting trainer lately! He looks just like you. His name's Kyouhei and he took over filling the pokedex in your absence! He even beat the Champion--"

"Mhm," Touya hums noncommitally. He stares at the bark of the tree in front of him; he's in some forest near Icirrus City. Probably. Navigating the wild from Reshiram's back is not exactly precise.

"And he stopped Team Plasma from attempting to freeze the world while you were irresponsibly gone," White goes on. 

"What," Touya says. "Team Plasma's still kicking?"

"Of course they are!"

"With you in charge?" Touya snorts. "I'm not impressed, sister. You should try better."

"Look who's talking," White retorts easily. "The renegade champion. But I'm telling you about this Kyouhei guy because he mentioned something about," White pauses. Touya hears her tongue click. It's a thing she does before dropping big news. It's annoying. "you know who. The Zekrom guy. You might wanna ask him about that. Kyouhei might know where he is."

Touya laughs into the receiver. "Nah, I'm not interested."

"You aren't interested," White repeats, incredulous. There's a long pause from her side. Touya lets her process this. "Okay," she says, much quieter. "Come over sometime, won't you?"

"Yeah," Touya says. "Sure."

He disconnects and looks at Reshiram, who's sprawled on the grass, content and happy to lie in the sun. Touya walks over to her and she looks at him, expectant, so he climbs her back and lets her take him to the sky, the unending horizon expanding before him.

There is a roar next to them, Zekrom appearing at their side with eyes glinting and its tail flashing electricity. N sits atop of him, holding onto his cap. He's not looking at the expanse of land beneath them, sun painting the clouds red. He's looking at Touya.

Touya grins. "Wanna race?" 

N huffs, shaking his head. "You're impossible," he says exasperatedly, but mutters something to Zekrom with a glint in his eye.

As they dart nowhere specific, everywhere they might possibly imagine, Touya wonders what the people on the ground can see; if they're nothing but dots, vaguely defined shapes. He thinks about White; after all, they both know the only reason he'd stop looking for N is if he found him.

Brightness lies before him, inviting, and Touya lets it soak into him. 

He's home.

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when i'm devoid of any distraction at 3 a.m. and there is electricity.


End file.
